


Sweet On You

by steveandbucky



Series: in any version of reality [7]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Baking, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Love at First Sight, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Meet-Cute, No Smut, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Third Person, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4567641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveandbucky/pseuds/steveandbucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes is the owner of a small bakery shop which a sleep-deprived Steve Rogers walks into one early morning and consequently flips Bucky's world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- Mainly Steve/Bucky, minor Angie/Peggy.  
> \- Special thanks to beardysteve, worthystevie and sebkisses (on tumblr) for helping me with this by beta-reading and also by urging me to continue writing. :')
> 
> Kudos and feedback would be much appreciated! :)

 

Bucky stands with his back against the two ovens, staring at the three bottles of food colouring on his counter. He’s narrowed it down to three choices of red, blue, or yellow – or maybe orange? It’s a cold rainy Wednesday in October, with Halloween themed _everything_ all around him, but he’s already made white chocolate ginger biscuits today and pumpkin pie is always on the display all throughout fall and winter. He puts the yellow back in the drawer and mixes the red and blue into the cupcake frosting bowl, and stirs it gently until the white cream turns lilac. Bucky smiles to himself; at least now when Angie figures out that he’s been at the bakery since 4AM, he can distract her with the cupcakes instead of trying to come up with excuses again.

The oven timers ring one after the other and Bucky sets the frosting aside, grabs the oven mitts from the counter and goes to retrieve two pans of apple pies (an all-time best-seller) and one of pecan brownies. He sets them on the cooling racks and goes back to the cupcakes, but there’s another ring, indicating that someone has walked in through the front door of the bakery. Bucky straightens up from where he was bending to spoon the frosting onto the cupcakes. The clock on the wall tells him it’s almost 5AM, and he doesn’t usually have customers at this time of the day.

Balloon whisk still in his hand, Bucky wanders to the front of the shop, where he finds a blond man looking at the display.

“Um-” The man takes a step back. “Are you open? ‘Cause I saw the light was on and-”

“Yeah, I guess we are open.” Bucky interrupts him because he suspects that at the rate his whole face is turning red, the man might just spontaneously combust. “Just don’t usually have customers at this hour,”

“Oh, right,” The blond gives a small smile, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.

Bucky just about loses it. The man is small, much shorter than him and the kind of skinny that Bucky had outgrown during puberty, with blonde hair swept to the side and bright blue eyes that light up when he smiles; but, god, that _smile_ -

“Hang on.” Bucky spins and walks back into the kitchen, where he leaves his whisk and unwraps his apron from around his waist. Then for good measure, he unties his hair and pulls it back into a neater ponytail, even though it’s just barely long enough to be tied back. There’s no mirrors around and he’s not gonna keep the man waiting by going to the bathroom, so he pats his face and really, _really_ hopes there’s no flour, or chocolate, or – _god_ – purple frosting anywhere on his face, as he walks back into the front of the shop.

The man smiles again when he sees him, and Bucky’s breath catches in his throat, but he smiles back.

“So, what can I do you for?”

The man turns to look at the displays in the corner as a way of hiding his blush, but Bucky notices anyway. “What would you recommend?” he asks, turning to look at Bucky again.

“Well, you’re awake at 5 in the morning so coffee, maybe?” Bucky gives him his most charming smile. “I’m Bucky, by the way,” he says as he extends his hand. “Nice to meet a fellow early riser,”

“Steve,” The man – Steve – says after a small laugh. “More like an insomniac, though. Can I get a black coffee and a slice of apple pie?”

“Sure thing,” Bucky can’t help but smile as he turns around and starts the coffee machine. He goes to retrieve the pie from the display and stops. “You know what, there’s freshly made pie in the back. I’ll go get them.”

“Oh no, that’s okay-”

“They’re warm from the oven!” Bucky calls out as he disappears into the back of the shop. The pies have started cooling down, and are just the perfect serving temperature. He smiles as he cuts one of them into ten equal slices, puts two on a plate next to a fork, and brings them to Steve. “Here you go,”

Steve looks at the plate and then at Bucky again. “I asked for one slice?” he says, with a slight question in his tone, as if he’s not actually sure.

“Well, you’re gonna want a second one anyway.” Bucky winks at him and turns to pour the coffee into a mug.

“That’s a bit presumptuous,” Steve’s tone doesn’t sound offended, but when Bucky looks at him he notices a slight frown creasing his forehead. Bucky’s smile is amused.

“I’m just proud of my creations.” He grabs the coffee cup and turns to serve it… and almost drops it.

Steve makes the most obscene moan at his first bite, his eyes grown wide. All Bucky can do is stand frozen in his spot, staring at Steve; he thinks maybe he should start praying right about now otherwise the Devil himself will be greeting him at Hell’s gates when he dies. Which, incidentally, could also be happening right now.

“This is so good,” Steve takes another bite and hums in approval.

Bucky swallows hard, pushes away the utterly ridiculous, and very shameful thoughts that sprang into his mind _through no fault of his own_. “Told ya,”

“I’m having a Ratatouille moment,” Steve sets his plate by the counter next to the coffee he’s just been served and gets out his wallet. “I can say it’s just like the ones my mom used to make when I was little.”

He smiles again. Bucky’s heart is doing somersaults, and he’s smiling goofily back at Steve before he glances at the wallet and realises he’s yet to ring up the order. _Get your shit together, dumbass,_ he tells himself while he counts the change and hands it back to Steve. Then he does the exact opposite; he gets himself a cup of coffee and a slice of pie and joins Steve by the table near the window.

Outside is still dark, and the rain has slowed down to a faint drizzle. Steve smiles again when Bucky sits opposite him, and all Bucky can think about is how he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make Steve smile, and _holy shit he did not just think that._

“So,” he clears his throat before he speaks. “How come you’re up so early anyway?”

“Or so late,” Steve corrects him again. “My roommates were being really loud, and I’m a really light sleeper.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “I didn’t even go to bed early and still only managed to get a total of three hours of sleep.”

Bucky nods, understanding. “Wild partiers?”

Steve snorts. “Couple who fight a lot.” He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, that’s even worse.”

“Not as bad as make-up sex.”

Bucky makes a face of disgust. “Now that’s just gross.”

Steve laughs, and drifts his attention back to his pie, already starting on the second slice. “This is amazing, by the way, did I mention that?”

Bucky smiles in response. He finds himself smiling the whole way through their conversation and is still smiling when Steve finally gets up and says he’s heading home to take a nap, and even later on, when Angie shows up for work and narrows her eyes at him.

“What on earth have you been up to?”

Bucky snaps back to reality and straightens up. He really can’t hide anything from her, even though he thinks having a dopey smile while drying up cupcake trays isn’t being inconspicuous, really.

“Nothing,” he says as innocently as possible. “I got some work done, is all. And hey look, I made cupcakes for you!”

Angie is clearly not buying it, but she takes the cupcake that she is being offered. “Well good, because I didn’t have time for breakfast.” The door rings as someone walks in and she grabs her apron and heads to the front of the store. “I’m gonna find out what you were up to, Buck!” she gives him a look and smiles cheekily.

Bucky rolls his eyes and follows her, looking forward to getting through the morning rush and head up to his apartment to get a few hours of sleep, at least - and not think of Steve, or try to anyway.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH EVERYONE FOR YOUR LOVELY COMMENTS!!!! I honestly didn't expect this to be so well received and I've read every one of your comments (twice!) and I immensely appreciate them. <3  
> Here's the second chapter :)

 

 

Bucky is frowning at a bowl of pastry cream.

It’s a late afternoon, almost closing time, and Angie is managing the front of the shop since it’s not so busy and she can handle it by herself – especially since it’s only her and her favourite customer left in the store now. Bucky has been working with a frown on his face all day, and perhaps overdoing it, but he can always send some of the extra doughnuts home with Angie and even Peggy, who is a regular at their store.

Steve didn’t show up the next day, or the day after that, or for the next week and Bucky feels kind of dumb for thinking that he might have. Then he starts worrying that he might never see Steve again, and seriously regrets not being able to work up the courage and ask for his number. He groans and sets his whisk down.

“Angie, come taste this please!”

Angie rolls her eyes. “I’m busy trying to run your shop here,”

Bucky grabs a spoon and heads into the shop. He smiles warmly at the only customer who’s sitting at the table closest to the counter. “Hey, Peggy,”

Peggy smiles and returns the greeting. “I can assure you I haven’t been trying to keep Angie busy.”

“Oh, I know that,” Bucky turns to Angie. “She’s just overdramatic.” He says, and Peggy chuckles.

Angie opens her mouth to respond but finds a spoonful of Bucky’s pastry cream in her mouth instead. “Mm,” she wrinkles her nose. “Something’s off.”

“Dammit, I thought so,” Bucky mumbles as he heads back to kitchen.

“And overdramatic? Really? You realise my career is based on my talent in drama?” Angie shouts out after him.

Bucky grins to himself. “What career?” he shouts back and hears a loud gasp from Angie and a snort of laughter from Peggy in return.

Bucky covers the cream with cling wrap and puts in the fridge, to deal with it later. He can hear the two women chattering and laughing about nonsense and he decides that Angie won’t mind if he heads home a little early. She’ll even encourage it, because maybe she didn’t want to say anything in front of Peggy but she’d scold him if it was just the two of them. Bucky sighs; he knows he needs a hot shower and a three-hour nap to clear his head because how on earth did he mess up the simplest pastry cream recipe?

He spends the afternoon catching up on his favourite shows on Netflix and heads to bed when he can’t keep his eyes open anymore. He sleeps soundly through the night and wakes up around five in the morning, having had a much needed rest. The rain is hammering on the streets, heavy and thunderous, and suddenly his bed is the most comfortable place in the world and he doesn’t want to get out. Bucky wraps himself in his duvet and drifts in an out of sleep for the next hour before he gets up and heads to his bakery shop downstairs.

The radio plays music from half a century ago and Bucky hums along while works through his to-do list. A tiny part of him still hopes to hear the doorbell ring and a certain blond man walk through the door, but he doesn’t let it drag him down. In fact, when the bell _does_ ring and he goes to greet the customer, he’s surprised to come across that familiar face.

Steve is folding his umbrella and shaking his jacket off, and his eyes light up when Bucky comes out from the back. “’Morning,”

“Steve,” Bucky smiles before he can stop himself. “Hey,”

Steve returns the smile. “I hope it’s still okay for me to show up before your opening hours.”

“Of course.”

“Good, cause there’s no other place open and I really need a cup of coffee,” Steve’s smile widens and turns cheekier.

Bucky snorts, but he gets the coffee machine working anyway. “You do know they sell these in stores too,” he taps the top of the machine and smirks at Steve. “This is the magical device that makes your coffee.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Technology sure is impressive these days.” He shakes his head. “You know, back in my day…”

Bucky bursts out laughing, and Steve doesn’t manage to finish his sentence as he starts laughing too – mostly at Bucky, who is bent over the counter trying to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he straightens up and wipes his laughter tears. “But did you really just try to pull an old grandpa joke on me?”

Steve shrugs. “I had a feeling it might work but I have no idea how I was going to finish that sentence.”

Bucky shakes his head. He pulls out one of the bigger mugs and pours the coffee, handing it back to Steve. “On the house,” he says as he meets Steve’s blue eyes.

Steve doesn’t break eye contact, a small smile playing on his lips. “Really? Because of that lame joke?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s a good way to start the day.”

Steve takes a sip from his coffee and hums thoughtfully. “If I make you laugh again, can I get a free slice of that apple pie?”

“Wow, you’re cheeky as hell.” Bucky cannot wipe the grin off his face. He thinks he’d probably make a hundred of pies for free just to get Steve to visit every day. Angie’s voice in his head tells him that would be a terrible idea, business-wise.

“Part of my charm,” Steve shrugs innocently.

“We’re all out, I’m afraid, but… I was about to make some more,” Bucky bites his lip nervously. “You can always hang around until they’re ready if you want or you can come back later and I’ll save-”

“Sure, I can wait.” Steve cuts him off, but Bucky is glad for it. “I don’t have to be at work for another two hours.”

Bucky nods, trying to come off as casual while his heart is beating furiously in his chest. “You can just-” he makes a vague gesture for Steve to follow him and heads back into the kitchen.

Steve carries his coffee mug and places it at a corner of the counter that Bucky seems to not be using. “So this is where the magic happens?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, the magic and a whole lot of mess.”

Bucky’s head whips around. “You’re turning out to be such a little shit,” he says, pointing to Steve with a wooden spatula.

Steve sips his coffee, undisturbed. “Why, what did you think I was like the first time we met?”

“Not a little shit,” Bucky grins at him

“Your comebacks are truly magnificent. I don’t even know how to counter, I’m speechless.”

Bucky can’t help but laugh. He sets the spatula down, and gets a couple of round pie dishes from the cupboard. The dough is at the right temperature and ready to be rolled out, and he’d made enough filling the day before for at least one apple pie, but there’s chocolate filling, and pear, too; he lingers with the fridge door open for a moment.

“Care to try something different this time?” he asks as he gets out the pear filling instead. “I promise it’ll be just as good as apple.”

“Sure. What are you making?”

“Pear pie,” Bucky smiles. “A personal favourite.”

“Can’t wait to try it, then.”

They chat while Bucky works and bakes one thing after the other, and Steve samples a little bit of everything that comes out of the oven, which makes Bucky wonder how a guy so small can eat so much. He loves having Steve in the kitchen to keep him company, especially since he keeps getting praised for the pies, the éclairs, the cinnamon rolls, and even the bagels – and he learns that Steve is very picky about how he likes his bagels. He learns that Steve is an artist who gives small group private lessons to aspiring artists of all ages, even students as young as seven years old. He also learns that Steve is currently living with his two best friends – Clint and Natasha – who he loves dearly but cannot stand to live with them for a second later.

“You could live with me,” Bucky blurts out and immediately after feels the need to cover his face with his both hands because he’s pretty sure he’s broken a worldwide record of how soon someone has been asked to cohabitate shortly after the first meeting.

Steve is frowning at him. “Really?”

Bucky swallows hard; he pretends to weigh the flour on the scale but at this point he’s forgotten what he was making altogether. “Yeah, uh, I mean I have a spare room – not that I’m renting it out but – I mean I wouldn’t mind if you’re looking for a place to stay…” his voice trails off as he finally looks up to see Steve smiling at him.

“Thanks,” Steve glances at his now empty mug for a second. “I’ll think about it. If you’re really serious.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Bucky feels – and looks – utterly dumbfounded, his mind being unable to catch up with his mouth that’s running on its own accord, and so he doesn’t hear the back door of the bakery store being open and shut, and the click of short-heeled boots on the floor as Angie approaches him from behind.

“Well, good morning,”

Bucky spins around so fast that Angie jumps back a little in surprise. They look at each other for a second, both with their eyes wide open in surprise.

“Shit,” he mumbles.

Angie clears her throat and sidesteps him to walk towards Steve. “Hi, I’m Angie, I work here.” She extends a hand and Steve shakes it somewhat hesitantly.

“Steve, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Angie smiles sweetly at him. She turns around to show Bucky her smile, and all Bucky can do is swear to himself in response. “Well, I better get to the shop, it’s about time we’ll be getting our first customers of the day.” She grabs an apron off the rack near the door and pauses for a second.

“I believe I’m your first customer of the day,” says Steve, somewhat humorously.

“True,” Angie cocks her head to the side. Her curled blonde hair stay in place perfectly, being held back with pins on each side. “But I’m sure Bucky’s already taken care of you, no?”

Steve watches as she walks out of the room and then turns to Bucky, who is busying himself and trying to hide the fact that he’s blushing. Steve looks at his watch. “I think I should head out or I’ll be late.”

Bucky nods at him. “Yeah, of course.”

“I hope I wasn’t too much of a distraction.” he says as he heads to the shop to fetch his jacket and umbrella from where he’d left them at his table near the window.

“Oh, I bet you were,” says Angie, almost at the same time that Bucky says “No, not at all.”

Steve chuckles. “I’ll be back for that apple pie you promised!”

“Yeah but you better not think you’ll be getting it for free!” Bucky calls out after him and laughs as Steve waves and walks out.

He turns around to find Angie grinning excitedly at him. “No,” he tells her and disappears back into the kitchen before she starts making fun of him.

Angie follows him. “Do I hear wedding bells?”

“Oh, come on,” he cringes.

“What, so you have a crush,” she says as she tries to dip her pinkie finger into the cake batter Bucky’s mixing.

Bucky swats her hand away. “Yeah? How about you head out front because I think your girlfriend is about to walk in.”

Angie gives him a look that he used to be scared of when they’d first met. Without saying a word, she turns around and walks out and if he hadn’t known her better, Bucky would think she was truly upset. He grins to himself and gets back to work; it’s only nine in the morning and there’s a long day ahead of him but the radio is still playing and the sound of Steve’s laugh still echoes in his mind and he can’t think of a better way to have started his day.


	3. Chapter 3

 

“That’ll be 9.30,” Angie says as she rings up the order of one of their regulars, an elderly woman who visits with her granddaughters. The woman pays while Angie leans over the counter and hands the two girls their individual bags with their chosen cookies, and if she’s sneaked an extra one in each bag that’s between her and the girls – not that Bucky would mind if he’d noticed anyway.

“Aw, they’re adorable,” Peggy comments from her seat at the far end of the counter as the two girls wave goodbye and exit the store.

Angie nods in agreement. “I always give them extra cookies, I can’t help it,” she says, pretending to whisper.

Bucky, who has kept himself busy re-arranging the dessert displays and tidying up in the cupboards behind the counter, huffs a laugh. “You know I can hear you,”

“Just checking,” Angie smirks at him. “Gotta make sure you’re not completely ignoring what’s happening around you,” she gestures with her head at a table at the window and Peggy follows her gaze.

“Ooh,” Peggy whispers. “Which one?”

Angie leans closer. “The short blonde one.” She speaks in a tone that matches Peggy, her smile evident in her voice. “Not my type, but he’s cute, right?”

Peggy glances at the man and hums in agreement. “I can see what Bucky sees in him.”

Bucky turns to glare at the two women. “I said I can hear you.” He says sternly. Then he realises that Angie hadn’t even said anything too obvious and Peggy had instantly caught on. “Just how often do you two gossip about me?”

Angie keeps her poker face on, while Peggy’s impeccable red lips spread into a warm smile. “We’re just looking out for you,”

Bucky moves closer to the two women in order to speak more quietly. The shop is small enough that in a moment of silence their voices would carry over to the table where their only two customers – excluding Peggy, of course – were sat. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“You know,” Angie shares a look with Peggy and then meets Bucky in the eye, her expression now turned softer. “You work so hard, and you haven’t dated anyone in a while, maybe it would be good if you started going out again.”

“With him, specifically,” Peggy adds helpfully.

Angie nods. “So, you know, we’re just saying, maybe you should ask him out,”

“Instead of brooding and trying to eavesdrop,” Peggy says with a teasing grin.

Bucky opens his mouth to protest and Peggy raises her eyebrows; that shuts him up. Bucky wants to speak up, though, and tell them maybe they should mind their own business, and ask each other out but he doesn’t want to cross any lines.

Instead he huffs in annoyance and goes back to busying himself with work that doesn’t really need to be done right there and then, especially since they’re running low on certain items and he really should be in the kitchen, baking. He’s trying not to think about Steve and the man he introduced to Bucky as Sam sitting at what has now become Steve’s favourite spot in the store, laughing over coffee and cake. The chocolate fudge cake that Bucky had made that morning, while thinking whether Steve would show up at the usual time to keep Bucky company or grab a coffee and a croissant before work.

He sighs at how pathetic he’s being. “Hey, Angie,” he starts, wandering over to the corner where the two women are chattering away. “Drinks at my place after closing? You’re invited too, Peggy,”

“Are you trying to make nice after having a go at us?” Peggy smirks at him.

Bucky can’t help but smile. “Or I just want to drink myself stupid and would like company.”

Angie snorts as she pulls out her vibrating phone from her pocket and frowns at it before heading towards the back of the store to answer the phone call. Bucky waits until she’s out of hearing range before he turns to Peggy. He’s not sure how to phrase himself, but he feels like he needs to say something.

“Spit it out, Barnes.” Peggy says, as she folds her newspaper and puts it away.

Bucky bites his bottom lip. “Look, I don’t want to overstep but – you know she likes you, right? I mean, this has been going on for months, you can’t not know.”

Amazingly, Peggy looks away, a slight blush colouring her cheeks. “Yes, I’m aware. And I would say you are kind of overstepping.”

“Sorry,” Bucky shrugs. “But you did stick your nose in my love life before so it’s only fair. I just wanted to – you know, look out for her.” He says with a grin and Peggy laughs.

She meets his gaze now. “Don’t worry. We know what we’re doing.”

“Well if that’s the case then – oh sorry, hang on,” He cuts his sentence short and walks back to the register, where Sam is waiting to be served.

“How can I help?” Bucky forces a polite smile.

“Steve tells me you do special orders for birthdays and such?”

“On occasion.”

Sam nods. “Could you take an order for next Saturday? It’s my niece’s birthday, and she wants a chocolate cake-” Sam pauses, lets out a rather a somewhat exasperated sigh. “Shaped like a bunny. And it’s gotta be pink.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh. “I think I can do that, yeah.”

“Oh, great!” Sam smiles brightly. “I was afraid it was a bit too ridiculous of a request.”

Bucky opens his mouth to reply when Steve appears next to Sam, and he can’t help but get a pang of jealousy, the ‘what if they’re here on a date’ thought springing up in his mind again.

“Told you it wouldn’t be a problem,” Steve smiles at him.

“Yeah, um,” Bucky pulls out a notepad from under the counter and writes down the order. “It might cost a bit extra, and I’m afraid we can’t deliver, would you be okay with picking it up on the day?”

Sam shakes his head. “It’s no problem.”

He orders a few of the custard doughnuts and Danish cinnamon swirls from the displays and Bucky arranges them into a takeway box carefully, and they sort out the details of the cake order before Sam pays and takes off, waving goodbye as he walks out into the cold November rain.

Steve turns to look at him then, a small smile playing on his lips. “Hey, are you free tonight?”

Bucky looks lost for a minute before his brain catches up. “I was gonna-” he looks over to Peggy, who’s sipping her third cup of tea. She shakes her head at him ever so subtly. “Um, yeah I’m free.”

“Oh, good,” Steve’s baby blue eyes light up. “I’m stuck home dog-sitting the whole weekend. Could use some company.” he shrugs.

“Okay,” Bucky mumbles, unsure of what he’s agreeing to. “Okay, sure.”

 

**

 

Bucky spends the first half hour of being at Steve’s flat on the living room floor, making cooing noises at Lucky, Clint’s Labrador, who alternates between jumping into his lap and licking his face and rolling on his back to request belly rubs. Steve is curled comfortably on the armchair and is watching the scene with a mug of hot chocolate in his hands.

“I think he already likes you better,” he comments after taking a sip.

Bucky has left his cup of tea on the table, untouched. “I think I like him better, too,” he says with a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply.

“Is he allowed on the couch?” Bucky’s question is answered with a nod, and he quickly gets on his feet. “Come on, Lucky, come here,”

Lucky doesn’t need to be told twice; he hops up on the couch and curls up near Bucky, placing his head on the man’s lap. Bucky reaches for his tea and cringes when he takes a sip. “It’s gone cold,”

Steve huffs a laugh. “I ain’t making you another one,”

“Is this how well you treat all your guests?”

“Only when my guests ignore me to play with the dog.” Steve deadpans, but he can’t help but laugh after Bucky mumbles a quiet apology.

Steve suggests getting pizza for dinner and they argue about toppings for a few minutes before deciding to order half a double pepperoni and half a Hawaiian. When Bucky insists to pay, Steve tells him there’s no way that’s happening and grabs Bucky’s wallet, hiding it in one of the kitchen cupboards. Then they spend the next twenty minutes waiting for the pizza and bickering over what to watch, an argument which escalates so much that Lucky starts barking at them to quiet down.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Bucky says as he flops down on the couch. “Jurassic Park has got nothing over Jurassic World.”

“Please. Your arguments are downright idiotic.” Steve disappears to open the door for the pizza, which Lucky has already beat him to. He pays and tips the delivery guy and makes his way back, setting the food on the coffee table.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he chews on his lip. “Maybe I like it better cause I like watching the cute raptor guy.”

To his surprise, Steve laughs. “That’s different, then.” He sits down next to Bucky, crossing his legs. He whistles and Lucky appears at his side immediately, tongue lolling out and tail wagging. “You want pizza, Lucky?” he asks, scratching Lucky’s head behind the ears.

Steve presses play and _Pirates of the Caribbean: the Curse of the Black Pearl_ starts playing – the only film they could agree on. Bucky looks at scene; him and Steve sitting next to each other, so close that their legs are touching, Lucky at their feet gobbling up his share of the pizza, and he catches himself thinking _he could get used to this._

“What’re you smiling about?” Steve asks as he hands him a plate with two slices of Bucky’s double pepperoni.

Bucky blushes as he realises he’d been staring at Steve. “Nothing,”

Steve elbows him with a quiet “Shut up,” and Bucky can’t help but laugh. Something deep inside him tells him Steve probably knows what’s going on and is probably playing along but he doesn’t want to ruin it in any way – certainly not by leaning over and kissing Steve right on his perfect pink lips.

 _Maybe next time,_ he tells himself and turns his focus back on the film instead of thinking about how much he’s dying to kiss Steve.

 

**

 

Bucky groans as he rolls over in his bed. Outside the heavy rain is pouring relentlessly, which usually means less people on the streets and less customers in the bakery. He doesn’t mind anyway, especially since Angie has taken the day off – not that she asked for it, but between her taking a long lunch break to go to an audition and wanting to finish early to go get ready for her dinner with Peggy, Bucky had told her she might as well take the entire day off. Angie had squealed in excitement and thanked him, making a vague promise to ‘tell him all about it tomorrow’ before hanging up and Bucky had stared at the phone in his hand for a full minute before realising what exactly ‘dinner with Peggy’ meant. Then he’d grinned and texted her wishing her luck for her dinner date and added a winky face just to annoy her.

Bucky gets up later than he usually does, not wanting to leave the comfort of his bed. He washes himself and runs a hand through his hair, gathering it in a small ponytail and runs downstairs dressed in favourite sweatpants and grey Henley. He thinks it might be good to work alone for some time, be left alone with his thoughts, uninterrupted.

He works in silence for a while, listening to the distant thunder of the rain outside and the quiet whirr of the ovens. At some point, he realises it’s been hours since he’s opened the shop and not a single customer has walked in, and he’s grateful for the peace and quiet. As soon as he hears a knock on the kitchen door and sees Steve’s blonde head poking through, he forgets all that.

“Can I come in?” Steve asks and Bucky nods in reply, so he opens the door and walks in. He’s dressed in a black denims and a brown leather jacket, and his hair is a little wet from the rain, even if he’s had his umbrella with him.

Bucky’s stomach is fluttering as he takes the sight in, and _Jesus Christ how can he look so damn good all the fucking time?_ It’s not fair, Bucky thinks; he has it so bad for this guy that within minutes he’s forgotten all about the vanilla frosting in the mixing bowl and the cinnamon twists in the oven.

“Steve -” he starts to say something and stops himself, but dammit he _has_ to say something because _he can’t take it anymore_ and isn’t he perhaps lying to Steve if Steve thinks that they’re friends but in reality all Bucky can think about is how badly he wants to strip him out of his clothes _and fuck him senseless?_

“I have some bad news,” Steve says, but he’s smiling and his tone is light.

“Oh,” Bucky has a moment of panic, a paranoid thought that Steve was able to read his mind just then and he’s about to run out of the store and never come back.

“I don’t think I can move into the spare room at your place.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Bucky returns his attention back to the frosting mostly to hide his disappointment. He takes a spoon and tastes it, then decides to add more cream while inside his brain he’s trying to figure out why Steve is smiling like he knows something Bucky doesn’t.

Steve steps closer to him. “Bucky,” he says, curling his palm around the man’s elbow.

Bucky turns to look at him and his pale blue eyes grow wide when he sees Steve’s hand reaching out to touch his face. “You have a bit of-” Steve’s thumb wipes across his eyebrow, and then his cheek. “Frosting.” Unbelievably, Steve licks it off his finger. “Mm, yum.”

Bucky has to remind himself to breathe.

Steve is gazing into his eyes with that playful smile still playing on his lips, right up until he pushes himself up on his tiptoes, put his hands on Bucky’s cheek and presses their lips together. It’s a small, chaste kiss, nothing like the kind Bucky had imagined when he’d pictured pushing Steve against a wall – no, this is _much worse._ He feels his knees weaken and a new kind of spark light up inside him, but all he wants to focus on are Steve’s soft, warm lips against his, and the warmth of their bodies pressed together when he puts his hands Steve’s hips and pulls him closer.

Steve lets out a soft laugh when they break apart. “Was afraid I’d read this all wrong.”

“No, it’s… it’s good,” Bucky whispers. Steve’s face is inches away, and he can’t stop himself from leaning in and stealing another kiss.

“Good,” Steve nods. “’Cause I like you. I like you a whole lot.”

Bucky feels his whole face heat up. “Yeah, I like you a lot, too.”

“Well, phew.” Steve grins and takes a step back, and Bucky drops his arms to his sides. “So you want to go out with me? Dinner, tonight?”

“Okay,” Bucky mumbles. He thinks he should pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming, but that kiss felt so good, so real, that there’s no way his brain would have imagined it. “Okay,” he repeats a little louder and a slow grin spreads across his face.

“Okay,” Steve mocks him. “I’ll see you tonight then.” He says and turns around to leave, but he glances at Bucky before he walks out.

Bucky leans against the counter before his legs give out and he drops on the floor.

 

**

 

Bucky groans as he flops onto his couch. “I’m taking a break,” he proclaims loudly. “You have way too many boxes,”

Steve laughs as he walks in the door, carrying a huge box full of art supplies, Angie following him behind, a pile of unfinished canvases stacked in her arms.

“You are so weak, Barnes,” Angie teases him. “If you’re not gonna help with the boxes, at least get dinner started.”

Bucky snorts at him and pulls out his phone. He orders two extra-large pizzas with half and half toppings to suit all four members of the Help Steve Move in With Bucky Committee. “Dinner’s done!” he calls out and grins cheekily when Peggy shoots him a look.

“At least pretend to feel bad that you’re not helping us,” Steve walks over to the couch and plants a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

“Even that’s too much effort in this heat,” Bucky whines, and stretches on the couch.

“What a child.” Peggy shakes her head at him and Angie nods, agreeing.

Steve goes down the stairs to get the last of his boxes while Peggy offers to make tea, but after a round of loud protests along the lines of ‘IT’S TOO FUCKING HOT FOR TEA, PEGGY’ from the rest of the group she starts making lemonade instead. They settle down when the pizza arrives, with Steve taking a seat on the couch next to Bucky, who refuses to sit up and lies with his head on Steve’s lap instead, while Angie and Peggy cuddle up on the other couch, and bicker over what they should watch, eventually settling on a comedy crime show about a fake psychic detective. They watch back to back episodes until midnight, all tired after a long day and eventually Angie and Peggy say goodnight and leave (probably to go and continue cuddling somewhere, Bucky thinks).

“I want to sleep,” he tells Steve after they shower and collapse in bed, in a room that is now _their_ bedroom.

“Mm, me too, I’m exhausted.”

Bucky smiles lazily. He rolls to his side and wraps an arm around Steve’s middle, pulling him close to his chest. “I want to sleep, so I can wake up next to you, and then spend the entire day in bed with you.” He nuzzles his nose into the nape of Steve’s neck, making the man shiver.

“Mm, that sounds almost too good to be true,” Steve tells him as he sighs contentedly and settles closer to Bucky, if it was at all possible.

Bucky plants a kiss on his shoulder. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, it does.”

Steve falls asleep almost immediately while Bucky stays awake, enjoying having Steve cuddled up so close to him even if it’s too hot and they have two fans on their highest setting in the room. At some point in the night they’ll probably drift apart but the comfort of their bodies pressed together, sleeping _in their bed, in their bedroom, in their apartment,_ well, that’s just something that might keep Bucky up all night, but he doesn’t think he minds.

Because it’s _Steve_ lying next to him; Steve, who walked into his bakery shop at an ungodly hour all those months ago and flipped his world inside out; Steve, who dared to kiss Bucky when all Bucky dared to do was fantasize about it; Steve, who ten months into their relationship asked Bucky if the offer to move in was still valid when Bucky had completely forgotten about it.

Steve, who wakes up at five in the morning and sighs exasperatedly when he sees Bucky getting dressed to go to work. “Come back to bed, Bucky,” he mumbles and Bucky laughs quietly.

“I’ve got a shop to run,”

Steve groans. “No, no shop.” He sits up and grabs Bucky’s hand, pulling him back to bed. For his size, Steve is surprisingly strong, Bucky had come to find out. “Stay in bed all day, remember?” he grumbles sleepily.

Bucky kisses him on the nose. “I was gonna make you that strawberry cheesecake you liked so much.”

Steve opens an eye. “Yeah,” he pushes Bucky off of him. “You’re right, the bakery can’t run itself, lots of work, pies to be made, go, go.”

Bucky laughs and grabs his shoes, quietly exiting the room and putting them on as he makes his way down the stairs, and feels grateful that tomorrow is Sunday and he’ll get to lie in bed looking at Steve’s adorably sleepy face all he wants.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's that, i hope you all enjoyed it (and that it wasnt disappointing???). if you want to come yell at me or talk about other AUs or whatever else i am on [tumblr ](http://steveandbucky.tumblr.com)  
> OH ALSO i made a collage edit to go with this fic which can be found [here](http://steveandbucky.tumblr.com/post/126687287879/sweet-on-you-a-stevebucky-bakery-au-ao3-link)  
> as always kudos & comments are much appreciated, and thank you all so much for sticking with me and encouraging me through this. :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> Update: [I am now doing freelance fanfic writing on fiverr.](https://www.fiverr.com/emmatunjikian/write-fanfiction-of-your-liking) Hmu :)


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